


My Apologies, Wrong Number

by HarpforHim



Series: In a Angst-Ridden Galaxy Far, Far Away... Whumptober 2020 [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Prompt: Found Family, Anakin is there to make things worse before he can help, Gen, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan’s father is a jerk, Obi-Wan’s gets mysterious calls, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:49:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26990059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarpforHim/pseuds/HarpforHim
Summary: Ever since the very beginnings of his apprenticeship with Anakin, Obi-Wan has received strange calls from a man who wants more than to merely check in on the Jedi Knight. Now a Jedi Master, the calls have become nearly incessant, driving Obi-Wan mad at his every waking moment. Things get worse before they get better as Anakin will soon discover his Master’s most well-kept secret.Whumptober 2020No. 13: Found Family (Alternate Prompt)
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Series: In a Angst-Ridden Galaxy Far, Far Away... Whumptober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967068
Comments: 8
Kudos: 202





	My Apologies, Wrong Number

**Author's Note:**

> Day 13 of Whumptober and I’m finally using and alternate prompt: Found Family.
> 
> Happy reading!

The calls had grown in length and frequency over time.

And it was beginning to drive Obi-Wan Kenobi mad.

" _I don't see why you can't return at least one of my calls."_ Despite his initial resolve to remain unaffected by the newest message, the Jedi Master winced. Still, the recording played on. _"Honestly, I thought you were better than this, boy. Call me back before I—"_

At the sudden _swish_ of the front door, Obi-Wan cut the message, adding it to the bottomless pit of lost coding that was his comlink's trash folder.

"Master, where have you been?" Anakin's jovial voice was tinted by only the slightest bit of irritation. "I thought you were going to spar with us this afternoon. Snips and I waited for over half an hour!"

A small wave of guilt washed over Obi-Wan, but he pushed it away, turning to his former apprentice with a grin. "Did you at least have a good time?"

"Well, yeah," Anakin replied with a shrug. "But that's besides the point. Where _were_ you?"

"I got… caught up in something else. I'm sorry, Anakin. Truly, I am."

A touch of concern flickered across Anakin's face. "Do you even know what time it is?"

 _Oh, we're not playing that game._ Obi-Wan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, I'm well aware of the time. Which is why I was just about to ask you and Ahsoka out to dinner. In order to make it up to you, of course."

Flashing his most charming grin, Obi-Wan could feel his friend's resolve to argue wavering.

"Well…" Anakin pretended to consider the offer. "All right. But only if it's Dex's."

"Why would we ever go anywhere else?" Obi-Wan teased, his earlier anxiety fading with each passing bit of banter. Leave it to Anakin to lift his spirits again…

The shrill _ping_ of his comlink chime sent shivers down his spine. _No, please. No._

"Uh…" Anakin glanced from Obi-Wan to the small comhub in the corner. "Are you gonna get that?"

Forcing his most easy-going smile, Obi-Wan took Anakin by the arm, guiding him towards the door. "I'm sure whoever it is will leave a message."

"What if it's the Council?" Anakin continued to protest, even as Obi-Wan snatched up both of their Jedi robes.

Handing Anakin his, which had been left there from his visit the previous evening, Obi-Wan shook his head. "The Council had its last session this morning. I'm a free cairoka bird, you could say."

"Okay… So, what if it's Cody?"

"It's not."

Anakin crossed his arms. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because Cody never calls on the main line."

"All right. What if it's a call for help?"

Obi-Wan sent him a look. "On my personal comline? Anakin, really. Just let it ring."

"Fine!" Anakin threw up his arms in defeat. "It's not my comm; not my problem."

"Right. I'm glad you've finally come to accept that. Now," Obi-Wan went on with a grin, "shall we get going before there aren't any tables left? The dinner rush and all, you know."

"Sure." He watched his Padawan take one last look at the beeping console before turning back towards the door. "After you, Master."

"Why, thank you, Anakin."

And for one pleasant evening, the incessant caller was forgotten.

When Obi-Wan returned to his quarters that night, however, a spike of anxiety stabbed at his heart.

Ten missed calls.

 _Ten_.

They were all the same, too. Every kriffing one.

" _I know you're there, boy."_

" _Answer me!"_

" _I thought you were better—"_

" _All I need is—"_

" _You're one of the illustrious Jedi Knights of the Republic, surely you can spare—"_

 _Delete._ Obi-Wan pressed the trash button with more force than necessary. _Delete. Delete. Delete!_ _ **Delete!**_

Even after all the messages had been banished to the overflowing trash folder, he couldn't seem to make his finger stop its violent jabbing.

_Delete! Delete! Delete! Delete!_

One last jab turned into his entire fist slamming down on the defenseless button.

And for a long moment, only Obi-Wan's heavy breathing filled the room. _Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale._

He had to center himself; had to calm down.

 _You're better than this, Kenobi_ , he scolded. _You're better…_

Eyes squeezing shut, his mind flew to the voice—that _voice_.

" _I thought you were better than this, boy."_

_No. Stop it! Stop it!_

In a rush, he scrambled into the small kitchen, and with trembling hands, began fixing himself a cup of tea.

When his comm rang again, he used the Force to mute its nagging.

_No. Not tonight. I can't… Not_ _**tonight!** _

The tea soothed him only slightly, and when he finally made himself go to bed, he kept the comlink on mute.

_If anyone needs me—_ _**truly** _ _needs me—they'll find a way to get ahold of me some other way._

_And if he calls again…_ Obi-Wan swallowed. _Well, I'll deal with it tomorrow._

_Not tonight…_

The next day was more of the same, except Obi-Wan chose to spend much of the morning and afternoon outside of his quarters. Checking up on his troops, who were preparing for their next military campaign, and sparring with Anakin and Ahsoka kept his mind off the missed calls he knew were piling up in his inbox.

And for one pleasant afternoon, everything was fine.

Then, the evening closed in dark and cold. And Obi-Wan's well-kept secret weaseled its miserable way out into the open. Until now, he had always been able to control it; to delete the calls, to shade their true intentions for those closest to him.

But that was back when they'd been less frequent. Back when they hadn't rooted themselves so deeply in his life—in his every waking moment.

Back when things were easy.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan began with a sigh as his friend plopped himself down on the small couch, a deck of cards in his hand, "wouldn't you prefer to play somewhere else? Yours and Ahsoka's joint room is much larger than mine. Why don't we—?"

"Oh, come on, Master," Anakin returned with a grin. "Your room is so cozy! And, uh… your fridge is full… So, there's that."

"Ah." Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Now, we get down to the truth."

"Besides, Snips is doing some weird girl thing with Barris and I don't want to intrude."

"No, you don't want to try to communicate with two young girls who have face masks slathered all over their skin."

"Uh, right."

"Honestly, Anakin…"

The Knight ducked his head and began dealing. "So… I'll deal while you get the snacks?"

With only the slightest roll of his eyes, Obi-Wan relented. "Fine. But I'm out of acid reducers, so I don't want you gorging yourself."

"Oh, come on! Have a little more faith in me than that."

"I'm merely speaking from past experience, my _very_ young Padawan."

"Ha. Ha. You're hilarious. Just let me be the judge of how much I can and can't eat, all right?"

Obi-Wan snatched several bags of Anakin's favorite snack foods out of the cupboard. "It's your funeral."

Anakin grinned. "Thank you. All right, this time, I'll keep scor—"

The familiar ring of the comhub pierced the air and Obi-Wan forced himself not to shudder.

"You gonna get that?" Anakin's voice was so calm, so casual. _How can he be so casual?_

Shoving away the twinges of jealousy, Obi-Wan went over and promptly ended the call. _That_ caught Anakin's attention.

"Why—?"

"It wasn't important." Obi-Wan brought the snacks over and sat in the chair across the way from his Padawan and the coffee table covered in sabacc cards. "Just a spam call."

Anakin cocked a brow. "How do you know?"

"The Caller ID," he lied.

"Obi-Wan, there _is_ no Caller ID."

"Well, there should be," Obi-Wan found himself muttering under his breath. Then, opening the snacks, he nodded at his friend. "You're first."

"The dealer always goes last, remember?"

"Fine." Picking up his cards, Obi-Wan could barely comprehend the numbers and symbols they presented. Still, he made his play, suffering Anakin's playful hiss of disappointment at what was apparently a bad move with grace.

The play continued for another five blissful minutes. Then, the comm rang again, screaming at Obi-Wan to _pick up! Pick up!_

He didn't even bother to look at Anakin, knowing what sort of expression he'd find on his friend's face.

Between mouthfuls of his snack, Anakin mumbled, "You gonna get that?"

Obi-Wan simply shook his head, playing his next card.

Rolling the dice, Anakin continued to gaze at his Master. "You sure?"

"Positive."

He noted Anakin's shrug and was grateful the young Jedi didn't press the issue.

They waited in suffocating silence for the call to ring out. Almost immediately afterwards, the caller tried his luck again.

Obi-Wan nearly choked on his tea.

"All right," Anakin began decisively, rising from the couch. "If you're not going to get it, _I_ am."

With a quick wave of his hand, Obi-Wan cut the call. Then, he quietly played his next card.

Slowly, Anakin sat back down, his eyes never leaving his Master.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, trying to ease his frazzled nerves at such a close call, "it's just the two of us right now. Let's just keep it that way for tonight and we'll have a nice, calming evening."

"Sure… Sure…"

Obi-Wan used every ounce of his self-control to keep from withering under his Padawan's suspicious glare.

"Was that a frivolous use of the Force, Master?" Anakin teased a few moments later, earning an eye roll from his friend.

After another round, the two Jedi were able to drift back into the world of light banter and friendly conversation.

And for two full games, everything was _fine._

Obi-Wan brought his cup up to his lips only to find it empty.

_Blast._

Anakin smirked. "Need a break?"

"If you don't mind pausing for a moment," Obi-Wan said, returning the cheeky expression with one of his own. "I'll be right back."

"I'll pour you another cup."

"Much appreciated," Obi-Wan called as he disappeared into the 'fresher.

When he came back out, he swore his heart stopped beating. _No…_

There was Anakin, hovering over the comhub, deep in conversation with _that voice_.

"Who is this?" His Padawan was saying as Obi-Wan tried to will his stunned legs to cross the room. "This is a private line."

" _Where is he? Why isn't he returning my calls?"_

"Look," Anakin was getting irritated now, "I don't know _who_ the kriff you are, but this is a _private_ comm—"

" _Don't hang up!"_ The voice was almost desperate and it was making Obi-Wan sick. _"He'll never call me back. Now put him on before I—"_

Somehow, Obi-Wan got his feet to listen to his screaming brain and in seconds, he was shoving Anakin out of the way, his finger inches away from the end button.

"Obi-Wan, what—?"

But he was cut off by the _voice._

" _Obi-Wan? Is that you?"_

The Jedi in question bit down in his lip. It took everything in him not to reply. And he didn't even _want_ to reply, but some part of him felt as though he was obligated to do so.

" _Obi-Wan? If you're there, you have to listen."_ The voice grated against his skin in ways he hadn't felt since he'd first heard a Hutt speak. _"All I need is a mere seventeen thous—"_

The snarl that came out his throat sounded foreign to his ears. "You won't be getting _anything_ from me. Do _not_ call _again_."

And with that, he jammed his finger into the end button, effectively canceling the transmission.

_Inhale, exhale..._

"Who was that?" Anakin's voice held no trace of its previous irritation, coming out instead as a soft whisper.

Obi-Wan swallowed hard, but the lump growing in his throat refused to be moved. "No one."

"Obi-Wan…"

Instinctively, his arms flew to his chest, wrapping a protective shield around his person.

_Inhale, exhale…_

"Obi-Wan," Anakin pressed, his hand coming to rest on the trembling Jedi Master's shoulder. "Come on, talk to me. Please…?"

Yet still, Obi-Wan couldn't force his mouth to move. To make any sound whatsoever other than a tiny pained gasp.

"… Master…? Who—?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, Obi-Wan took a shaky breath. "My father."

"What?" Anakin's shock was beyond palpable. "Your… Your _father?_ Like, your _father father?_ Your _birth father?_ "

Obi-Wan only nodded.

"But I thought… Don't the Jedi not… How in the stars did he… _Obi-Wan!_ Your _father!_ " Clearly flustered, Anakin continued to splutter nonsense until he at last came to the question they both knew needed an answer: "What does he want from you?"

Giving his best nonchalant shrug, Obi-Wan shook his head. "Credits."

"That's all?" To say Anakin was appalled would have been an understatement. A gross _understatement_. "That's _all_? If I were a parent, I would be calling because of my _son_ , not because of what I think he can give me!"

"Anakin, calm down," Obi-Wan began with a heavy sigh, "we don't even _know_ each other. I was brought to the Temple when I was three years old—hardly old enough to truly remember my parents, and _clearly_ not old enough to care very much about them."

"So… you _don't_ care about them?'

"I know it's a hard concept for you to understand, but no, I don't. And I would be glad enough if he went back to his own life and let me get back to mine."

Anakin didn't look as though he believed him.

Obi-Wan hugged himself tighter. _I barely believe myself some days._

"But he's your _father_!"

"No!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, turning on Anakin in a flash, his banked temper flaring up at last. "He's an old man who doesn't know when to quit. Who won't leave well-enough alone and only cares about what he thinks I can give to him because I'm a Jedi. He's a swindler, a thief, and a blackmailer and I'm _done_!" Then, he pushed past his bewildered apprentice, muttering, "I'm going to see the Council about changing my comcode…"

The hand on his shoulder stopped his advance.

"Obi-Wan, how… How long has this been going on?" Anakin's eyes were on him again, this time bleeding worry and sympathy.

Well. Obi-Wan didn't need pity. And he certainly didn't need to be having this conversation.

But Anakin's hold was tight and his expression made it clear that neither of them would be going anywhere until the matter was settled.

With a resigned sigh, Obi-Wan cast his eyes downward. "I received the first call not long after I took you on as my apprentice. Apparently, this man—my father—figured I would be more open to… _financing_ his misadventures now that I was my own man, no longer under the tutelage and wing of another Jedi. They've grown in frequency over the years, after I made the mistake of answering one of his calls towards the end of your training. I tried to tell him to leave me alone, that I wasn't the rich, illustrious Jedi Knight he believes me to be." Obi-Wan shook his head. "He never listened. And he still doesn't, it would seem."

"Oh, Obi-Wan," Anakin sighed. "I'm… sorry. I don't even know what—"

"It's all right. Attachment is forbidden, so this shouldn't be an issue… It _isn't_ an issue. It only…" _Well, I've already shared too much for one evening._

But Anakin was relentless. "What?"

Another sigh. "It just… _hurts_ sometimes. To think that my father is still out there somewhere, somehow got my number, and yet only wants to talk to me because he thinks I can get him whatever he wants."

He felt Anakin's arm slide around his shoulders. "Kriff, Obi-Wan. I'm so sorry. But hey, listen, you don't need him, all right? You already have a family who loves you more than he ever could. And, even though I only knew him for a few days, I can say with all the confidence in the galaxy that Qui-Gon was a _much_ better father than whoever the kriff _that_ was could ever be."

A wash of sadness filled his chest at the mention of his old Master, but this time, it was accompanied by a delayed sense of warmth. And for once in his life, he couldn't ignore the truth of Anakin's words.

When Obi-Wan made no reply, not being able to find the right words to even speak his mind correctly, Anakin pressed on.

"So I say, we turn off your comlink—and I mean _completely_ off—then finish our game. Tomorrow, we can see about getting you a new number."

Obi-Wan was nodding before Anakin had even finished.

"And if that barve ever finds some other way to contact you, well, we'll do it all again, all right?"

Obi-Wan didn't know what to say.

"Just say 'thanks,'" Anakin said with a knowing smirk, but his tenderness showed through the tease.

"Thank you, Anakin. Truly."

"No, Master, thank _you_."

Now it was Obi-Wan's turn to feel bewilderment. "Whatever for?"

"For letting me help you. You really don't let me do that too often."

"Well," Obi-Wan replied, flashing a genuine smile, "I suppose we'll have to change that, won't we."

"It's about time."

 _Yes…_ Obi-Wan didn't even glance back at the now disabled comlink. _It certainly is about time._

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve always wanted to write this story but have had no need to until now. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed finally getting it out of my head! XD


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